The Diva Digs up the Dirt Read Online Free PDF Page B

with the dark greens and shadows of the trees. Oversized sunglasses and a dark straw hat concealed her face. If the sun hadn’t reflected off a shiny belt buckle, I never would have seen her there.
    “Think it’s Olive spying on the party?” Olive generally avoided black-tie events and anything involving a crowd. The hat and sunglasses prevented me from identifying her, but I couldn’t imagine that anyone else would want to linger on the fringes of the party.
    Nina nudged me and whispered. “Look again.”
    Behind the royal purple spikes of a butterfly bush, I spotted a man dressed to blend in with the trees. His dark green T-shirt and trousers hid him well. Only his sandy hair gave him away.
    “Not there!” hissed Nina.
    How many people wanted to spy on Roscoe’s picnic? My eyes breezed past the man in green and the woman in the hat until I picked up Nina’s target.
    Mona’s colorful outfit almost blended with the huge blue and purple blossoms of a cluster of hydrangeas. “You don’t think she’s following us?” I asked.
    Nina heaved a sigh. “It’s a little peculiar that she happened to turn up here, don’t you think?”
    I thought exactly that. I knew she would turn out to be one of those dogged people.

    When we were indulging in ice cream sundaes, mine sweet pink peppermint with heavenly fudge sauce, Nina ever so casually asked Francie, “So how is Olive?”
    “She can’t believe that business about the bed-and-breakfast. That was her dream, not Mindy’s.”
    I grinned at Nina. Evidently it
was
Olive whom we saw lurking in the woods behind the house. “That explains Mindy’s horror. It’s probably not the life for everyone.”
    After most of the guests departed, I took a little stroll through the gardens collecting trash. Why would anyone throw paper napkins on the lawn? I paid little attention to murmuring voices until I heard a sob. Through a cluster of bamboo, I could see into a private garden. Two white wicker chairs sat comfortably side by side, adorned with seat cushions that matched the blue delphiniums and hydrangea behind them. Although Roscoe never served alcohol at his picnics, a pitcher and drinks that looked suspiciously like mint juleps dominated a white table spread with a Battenburg lace cloth. An ice cream sundae melted next to a slice of watermelon. I imagined Olive had spent many happy hours there. She probably never dreamed that she might someday find her son there—with his arms around Mindy, his new stepmother. Yet I could swear that’s what I was seeing.
    Waves of guilt pelted me for spying. Whatever was going on was none of my business. Feeling like I’d seen something I shouldn’t have, I lowered my head and tiptoed away.

    I took a long, hot shower that night to wash the dreadful stench out of my hair. Poor Roscoe and Mindy would haveto live with the smell. It was after midnight when I wandered out to my own garden wearing flip-flops and an oversized T-shirt that came to my knees. I carried a cool, refreshing lemon drop to drink and had Mochie on a leash. At the table where Nina and I had sat in the morning, I relaxed with my feet up and watched Mochie sniff nighttime delights. He pawed at fireflies while Daisy explored and I basked in a balmy summertime-and-the-livin’-is-easy atmosphere. The manure nightmare was over, and except for lunch with Roscoe, I had two blissful weeks of nothing to do. I drank in the scent of lavender.
    But my thoughts kept veering to all the little tasks that needed to be done. I could finally tackle the renovation of my bathrooms. No! I deserved a couple of weeks of lounging. No major projects. No drudge work. I would take in a movie. Even better, maybe a play. I could finally spend some quality time with Wolf. We could take some short trips to the mountains or the beach. It seemed like Wolf and I were always in a hurry. Being too busy for each other had led to the eventual demise of my marriage to Mars. I wasn’t going to let another